Note: 10 Varus-points to anyone who already knows what the title of this episode refers to!
Also, I have started another fiction called "In the Path of OneShots"! It is for stupid one shots related to this story. That way I don't have to dump things in this one that is too stupid and can keep to the story itself. It's like an outtakes fiction. :P
Also, CONGRATS! :D We are now going into the second half of the fiction. There are 3 subplots going simultaneously now. 1. Star Forge. 2. Maris hunting. 3. Some stuff going on with Darth Nihilus/Palpatine/Windu. So this final half will naturally be designed to bring all 3 plots to a resolution with the most constant one being Varus' search for the Forge.
There will be one more subplot inserted a bit later, but it will be a kind of combination between the three already done rather than something completely new.
Other than that, all subplots will involve the rest of the galaxy with no actual correlation to Varus. There won't be much love given to them, but I do want to show the galaxy is continueing to spin.
So this will feel slow paced. There is a reason behind every chapter, but it won't be as sneaky/twisty/subplotty as it was before. The subplots will continue, but the moments of discovery will be less.
I also have no idea how long each chapter will be, and how many parts there is to each episode. I have a set number of episodes in mind, but the amount of love each needs to be expressed will decide how many parts and chapter lengths this will call for.
Also, again, I have redone the first 5 chapters based on my beta's edits.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the clothes on my back.
Episode 10 - Fatass and Meatbags Part 1/3
Summary: Starkiller, apprentice to the deceased Darth Nihilus, was tricked by Darth Sidius into becoming a puppet of the Jedi through a force mind-wipe. He was renamed Varus Wynn and assigned to Anakin Skywalker as his second Padawan alongside Ahsoka Tano.
Following a lead from the former Sith, Starkiller, they a Sith Holocron linked to Revan that was implanted into Varus's mind. The following investigation shed light on the fact that the Star Forge was still alive. Anakin Skywalker was assigned to follow the trail of Revan left in Varus's mind to find the Star Forge for the Republic.
Thus far they have landed on Dantooine and entered an ancient tomb of the Infinite Empire. Inside Ahsoka and Varus both encountered illusions. Varus's illusion was a version of himself, twisted and dark by the temple, and he was forced to end the illusion by promising to himself to eventually remember who he was. They recovered the coordinates to five locations that would piece together the coordinates of the Star Forge.
Varus returned home and moved out of the Temple. After a blood scan, he looked into information that was contradictory. He wasn't human. He was a Miraluka. The Jedi had been wrong on his profile information.
Despite the Jedi's hopes, sins of Starkiller's past are catching up to Varus. Maris remembers him after Starkiller murdered her Master, and sees him in the Temple. She has been told it is classified, and to leave it alone. She spent time in mourning, and has improved while Ahsoka was gone, but then someone kidnapped her and took her to a dark place on Coruscant. There, he talked with her, and showed her who her true enemy was.
And an unknown power called 'Manager' is conspiring against the Jedi, and while he died mysteriously, his legacy was taken up by a mysterious woman who also died. Just before death, she confronted Palpatine, and presented the mask of Darth Nihilus.
"May I ask a question?" I ask.
"You just did." Ahsoka answers.
"Shut up. I'm serious."
"So was I."
"Enough." Anakin mutters. "This is too boring for you two to go on and on. Just ask the question and be done with it."
I roll my eyes. Clearly, twenty hours in a shuttle is too much for some people. Unlike said people, I, at least, have my sanity and sensibility intact. Let's just ignore the ghost Revan in the room and never mind the fact that I have had more people messing with my head than I care to recall. Also lets forget the fact the shuttle has one room, is small, and. No. Chairs. Yep, I'm on the floor. The lovely, cold, uncomfortable, shaking floor. Have I mentioned the shaking? The thing may (or may not) include dampening technology to take up some of the shock from us impacting galactic dust, but its still vibrating at an almost atomic level that is massaging my ass!
So yes, some people just can't take it.
And its noisy as hell. The vibration comes with its own theme song of I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE!
"How long until we get there?"
"Another hour." The grouchy man in the hot seat answers.
"Is that your question?" Ahsoka asks.
"No." I say snidely. "My question is whether or not either of you have ever met a Miraluka before."
Aaaaaaaaaaand now there's a pink rancor in the room as everyone goes deathly quiet. Yippee. Ahsoka should be thinking in silence, but Tree-Hugger's surprise doesn't surprise me. I had forgotten to mention that little tid bit when he was forcing me to enter a shuttle without my Blades of Epic-ness. It wasn't like I was acting like a child. I was just protesting the fact since I wanted to bring along what could be a very intimidating piece(s) of hardware, and could be used in hiding who we are as Jedi. And I wasn't pouting when we left. I was just showing my distaste for the situation. Quietly.
Tree-Hugger wouldn't let me bring my stuff…
"I don't think I have." Ahsoka says.
"What's a Miraluka?" Tree-Hugger asks.
OK, that hurt. And that answers my question. "Apparently It's what I am." I answer. "I'm not actually human."
Tree-Hugger is shocked enough to stop fidling with the hardware stick remote thing on the counter, turn around, and look at me. "You're not human? That's news to me."
I shrug. "The Jedi messed up on that little detail. Didn't they do a blood scan?"
"They did." Tree-Hugger furrows his brow thoughtfully. "What blood scan told you that you were a Miraluka?"
"The resort." Ahsoka explains. Tree-Hugger nods.
"That makes sense. Varus, the Jedi and Republic uses a couple of standard procedures, but this one you went through was different. They probably go through a different company with different resources. There are races that even use fuel sources that are completely different and therefore have completely different hardware and technological capabilities. There are even a few that are entirely organic in nature… It makes sense that if you went outside the procedural standards, then you would get more specific results."
Right. What he said. All I caught was something about it being different than the original blood scan, and something about more specific results. "Ok."
"But to answer your question, Varus: I have no idea. I probably have at some point, but I wouldn't know how to recognize them. Why?"
I hesitate and suddenly the ground looks fascinating. Look at all the dirt in the ridges! "Apparently… a Darth Nihilus wiped them all out to extinction… Except me." I hear Tree-Hugger's silent intake of air, and I can visualize Ahsoka's eyes expanding. "But, that doesn't make sense. The Miraluka may have been on the defensive all the time, but they must have had colonys. Starports. A few traders scattered around the sector or… or something."
"You think you're the last?" Ahsoka wonders fearfully. I nod. I'm not crying. I'm upset, but I'm not crying. But I should be crying. I'm the last. I'm the sole member of an endangered species. But all the same that just cannot be true. When you have a species that interacts on the galactic scale, or even within just a single sector, not everyone dies from a single slaughter. There are colonies. People leave their homeworld and live on other planets because of war, money, love, work or whatever reason. And the Miraluka, being a sub-human species, should be compatable at breeding with humans. It puts a sick feeling in my stomach that I have to be so desperate as to consider the probability of breeding as an act of desperation for a species, but its all the same. Miraluka cannot have died out completely just because some bastard wiped out their homeworld.
I'm living proof of that. I should be crying, upset, something. Yeah, I'm unhappy about it and might have to consider … breeding. Wow that came out cold. But still, I should be in total shock about this, but I'm not. I should be going on a bloody rampage across the stars for my people's killer, but all I get is a cold, empty feeling in my heart. Almost like I'm past that, and not in a good way. I gave up. I never let go, I just… gave up. It's a lonely absence, a hole, inside me.
Is this partially why I was so afraid to consider learning of my past before? I've only gotten a piece and already I'm in dread.
I've been having dreams. Flashes mostly, but pieces of… something. I can never tell fully. I know for a fact the flashes are mine, not Revan's. They have that flavor of being me. But all the same they are just scattered seconds. I am talking with a blind lady about something called a Force Link. She is mean and won't let me leave to play with my friend… What's her name? I don't remember. I am standing in front of a pillar of fire that reaches all the way into the clouds. I feel warm in front of it. Not hot, just warm. I don't just feel warmth imitating from the flame, I feel something alive, like a heartbeat, like thousands and millions of heartbeats. Its emotion of a people. Their sadness, their joy, their grief, their rapture, their sense of stability within each other as the hearts beat almost as one. Its… warm. Not the cold hard feeling of disconnection I get from being in the Jedi Temple and from the monks themselves. Its not the empty void of space, and its not the hallow loneliness. It's the opposite. It's being whole.
That's a really weird bonfire. I quite like that dream. But then there were others. Ones that were less about sight and more about a feeling. The exact opposite. Chilling, empty, hungry, void, hatred, fear all screaming from the darkness that I refuse to look through. I hear the calming vibrations of a great ship, loyal almost to a fault like a crippled dog, then screams of people dieing all around me. I'm in a great city, probably Taris. I'm in a great forest, on a station, on a junkyard planet. I'm running for my life through well-lit halls. I'm fighting for my life in dark ones against a ghost living inside a mask.
I thought of telling Tree-Hugger about them, about my dreams. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I can piece them together into something that can actually be communicated rather than just a jumble of emotions and flashes and images. Not to mention the fact that I don't even know which ones are memories and which are just self-inflicted nightmares, because I probably am morbid like that.
Movement breaks my thoughts and Tree-Hugger stoops down in front of me. I don't know if my emotions are all over my face, but his look of concern is touching. And that's not sarcasm.
"I will use my sources and contacts and see if there are any others. If there are, which there will be, they have to have been seen by somebody somewhere. Your right. You cannot be the only one, Varus."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." He replies offhandly and returns to the pilot chair. "We now have… fourty-nine minutes left. We begin descent in four. You better get strapped in."
"Where?!" Ahsoka asks. "There is no where to strap in!"
He turns his head and glances around. It's just us, our sleeping bags, and our belongings. "Oh."
And, we're dead. Yippee.
The descent went better than planned. We didn't die. That had to account for something. I spent most of it rolling back and forth, being airborne from the violent shaking uuuupppp and dooooown, and throwing up. I spouted more threats, insults, and crap in general than I remember saying in a very long time. I have managed to work on the 'mouth' crap, but today, forget it. I'm going to be feeling these bruises for months. Oh look, another roll, and I go rolling across the floor and slam my head into the side.
Ahsoka just pinned herself in the corner and used the Force like a strapping belt. I wish she had given me that idea before my face met the ceiling, and the floor, and at some point I forgot which was which as I rolled across every surface available.
But hey, we didn't die!
The moment the door open and beautiful, gorgeous land appeared, I was already out of it throwing myself in. I laid out on the hot ground without a care in the world right up until: "This is the wrong place…" Tree-Hugger mused.
Oh, HELL NO! Do not say that! He continues, "The meeting place was changed to a hundred miles north. Ok, back in you two." Bastard.
Fine. I get up, brush the sand off my butt, and climb back in. The next jump goes even better! A huge gust of wind sends our shuttle turning sideways and I kiss the wall! I'm not usually a romantic, but it's a gorgeous wall. I slide to the floor with a deep groan and screeching sound coming from where my cheek has met the metal plating.
We land, and before I rush out to settle my legs on solid ground, Ahsoka grabs my shoulder. She shakes her head toward the window, and lo and behold, there are people out there. Is that a good sign? "The two of you stay here." Tree-Hugger tells us. "I am going to negotiate our safe passage to the coordinates. It shouldn't take long. Actually, Ahsoka, you are free to come if you want. Up to you."
"I'm fine." She sits down on shaky legs. Ha! The trip was difficult for her too! Only she isn't painted black and blue like I am.
"Alright. I'll be back." Tree-Hugger descends the stairs and I scramble over to the window to watch. My legs are shaky from the descent and every inch of me feels bruised, but I want the chair! It has a seat belt! Bastard Tree-Hugger stole the only seat belt!
Anakin descended down the ramp onto the hot Tatooine sand. The wind cut at him unforgivingly, and before him stood a transport, two tanks, and a small battallian of mercinaries.
He left the safety of shadows under his ship and stopped just in front of them. To his surprise, the transport opened to reveal Jabba. He had been informed he would be talking with someone high up to discuss his offer, but for it to be Jabba himself? This was good. The slug was taking him seriously.
"Hey!" The microphone screeched into life behind him. "It's the fat-ass!"
Anakin felt every inch in his body cringe in cold, electric shock. Jabba froze and his eyes slowly expanded. A couple of his troops dropped their guns. Their fingers were numb and their mouths speechless and gaping. Anakin slowly turned around to face the ship.
"Varus!" A girl's voice came on.
The male continued, "I never would have guessed. Gee, I wonder if he knows I'm here. Kinda creepy if he did. Like he's psychic or something. Doubt it, he's too stupid for that. Wait… why is everyone looking at me? BY THE FORCE THEY ARE PSYCHIC AREN'T THEY!?"
"Varus!" Ahsoka said louder and more urgently.
"What?!" The male returned.
"Your elbow is on the microphone!"
…
The microphone turned off.
Anakin forced himself to remember to breathe in and out, slowly against the raging tension inside him. He turned back to Jabba and put his hands up defensively, "Lord Jabba, I can explain."
Jabba looked at him, looked at the ship, looked back at him, and snapped his fingers. Instantly every gun pointed at him or the ship.
"Tree-Hugger get out of there!" The microphone blurted out.
Anakin turned and dashed. Blaster bolts flew by him all around, but with the Force he was able to tell which would hit him and which wouldn't. He dodged, ran around the side of the ship, up the ramp, and slammed his fist into the button telling it to ascend. The shuttle shook with the impact of the tanks turret fire, and Anakin jumps into his chair as Varus stands up. A moment later the shuttle is ascending.
Anakin had to turn the shuttle sharply sideways to dodge a rock ravine. An explosion erupts and the ship spins out of control before crashing into the sand.
A team of Ghorfa bantha riders moved across the sands. The large feet of the bantha left deep imprints that the elements destroyed a moment later. A gust of wind came over them and Koj'Ineh turned his face up to it. Through his mask he could feel the particles of sand hit him. "A hot wind comes from the north."
While all wind was hot, this felt more black and smelled of charcoal. A smell associated with fire.
The caravan stopped and the lead rider turned her hooded face to the wind. "I feel nothing." She said.
"It is there." Koj'Ineh assured her. "There is a fire nearby. The Good Spirit tells me so. It is calling to me."
"Hmmm." Barjol'Ineh considered it.
Despite the intense heat of Tatooine, fire was a rarity. The reason was because there was nothing to burn. Sand was an element almost like metal in that it didn't just burst into flames the way leaves and wood do. For there to be fire, there must be something to burn. If there is something to burn, it is probably another one of the Outsider's villages not being adequately prepared, or there was a fight. Either way it the existence of a fire proposed there was something to burn. And anything that could burn, could be salvaged in part.
"We move, direct us Far Seer."
Koj let out a guttural salute and pointed in the direction for them to move. They journeyed until they came to an outcropping of high rocks, out of which black smoke rose. They entered in and found a smoking vessel of metal with its face buried in the sand. It was impossible to say exactly how much of the ship was buried, but judging from its width, it couldn't be too large.
The vessel had a fire burning on its side and it didn't take an engineer to know it's engines were blown. None of them were engineers. The Ghorfa had very little skill with work with electricity and metal in the way the outsiders did.
Black oil and shards of metal scattered across the sand.
The caravan leader stopped their march with a hand signal. "Do you feel anything, Far Seer?"
"No, Elder. The Good Spirit has blessed this place."
"Good." Barjol climbed down from her bantha and unstrapped a side bag. A number of other riders did the same. "Three of you scout around. I don't care to stay here too long. We are too close to 'Zzerka' as it is."
A number of riders redirected their bantha away to check. Koj'Ineh climbed down from his own and pulled out his rifle from his back. He checked its clip. Half a clip. He may not have sensed any danger, but one thing a Ghorfa had to learn about life: It changed as easily as the winds. One moment its clear, the next you have a sandstorm in your face. They may not be in danger right now, but predators didn't always become hostile until you poked with them a stick.
Half a clip wouldn't cut it. He strapped to his shoulder a long vibroblade as well. It was dulled with age and use, but he wasn't about to throw it away. It was a family heirloom going back dozens of generations. Not out of sentiment but necessity. The clothes he wore were handed down even longer.
The sand shifted and the vessel sunk another inch. Barjol growled to herself. "Check inside first, all of you, before the sands consume it. Be thorough, but don't get yourself killed. Except you." She pointed to another. "You with me. This oil is valuable." With that said, she scooped up as much oil as she could, sand 'n' all. They could remove purify the oil later, or just not bother and let the sand stay. It wouldn't interfere if used correctly.
Koj'Ineh climbed up onto the top of the vessel and inspected its surface. The engine was blown apart, from heavy enemy fire, and the ramp was jammed shut from laser heat. Hitting the open button, if it was an 'open' button, didn't do any good. He ran his hands along the surface, and others along with him did the same. Their gloves hands inspected every inch of every plate of metal until one said, "Here."
They gathered around and saw this plate was slightly bent. A portion of it exposed the inner workings. A metal pipe was provided. Koj jammed his blade into the hole and pushed against it to wind it, then the pipe was inserted. A team of them pushed down on it. Again and again they pushed down, and each time the metal plate resisted. At last the screws holding it down gave, and it popped into the sky. The plate spun and twirled and whistled as it flew. It dropped down and violently slammed itself into the ground next to where a Ghorfa was scavenging, frightening him. They laughed at his expense.
A Ghorfa aimed down into the hole, but saw nothing in the immediate light. A single male dropped down. Judging from the quick impact sound a moment later, it was a low drop. The male called up, "Bring rope. Climbing back up will be hard. There is much in here!"
Koj sighed in relief. Successful scavenging missions were rare. "There are people down here." The male called up a few moments later. "Three… battered and bruised, but alive!"
Ropes were provided and several more Ghorfa dropped down. Their guttural cheers warmed Koj's heart. They sounded genuinely happy. The ropes were secured and Koj dropped down as well.
The inside of the ship was a mess, but there was much to be found. Bed linens would be good for linen of all kinds. They looked through bags and under and around every detail. Food, provisions, general supplies. Medicine! Not much, but even the most basic of meds was the difference between life and death. Medigel! Koj almost cried out in amazement. They called for bags, and filled them with as much as they could find. The bags were tied to ropes and hauled up.
When the area was cleared as much as possible, Koj set his attention to the humanoids. One was tall, male, human. Another was male, human, and not as tall. The third was alien. Whether it was male or female, he had no idea. He didn't bother guessing. Aliens were too diverse to warrant bothering. All three of them were suffering from head wounds and bruises of various degree.
They had lightsabers on their belts. Koj froze on sight and stopped his hands.
Jedi, Sith. It didn't matter. All were outsiders. All murdered. All took. All stole. Outsiders could pretend to reason, but Jedi and Sith… They never bothered to pretend. They simply did as they pleased and didn't look back. Jedi may try to reason, but it was always with the same thing. 'You leave, we take.' Sith didn't make excuses or pretend to be fair, they just took and forced the Ghorfa to leave. All were the same. Different voices, same results.
But the Good Spirit was telling him to good things of these three. She was smiling on them and that was good enough for him.
Koj snatched their lightsabers and stuffed them in bags. He tied the outsider's hands in ropes tightly, and their feet, and looped it all around their necks in one giant body knot. With the outsiders secured, the three of them were pulled up one at a time.
With the room clear, Koj and the team inspected every cupboard, every panel, every switch, every exposed piece of hardware. The ship around them shifted violently as it sunk further and further, and they hasten to take what they could. Metal plates, containers, an emergency pistol and fire extinguisher both. Pieces of shattered glass were picked up from where the front window exploded inward. It wasn't until sand started to flow in from above that they climbed up the ropes out of the ship.
A minute later the ship filled with sand and sunk beneath it's depth.
And judging from her stance, Barjol was not happy.
"You dislike what we found?" Koj wondered. They had found much. All of the bantha were covered in filled bags and metal plates to the point they almost looked armored. The three survivors were nestled in loose ropes and cloth along the sides of bantha like beds leaning them into the fur.
She waved it off. "Do not try to ignore the issue. Why would you think to rescue the murderers?"
"They are outsiders. Not murderers." Koj argued.
She grabbed the tall one by the hair and exposed his face. "This one is. Ghost of Ekhor they call him."
"Ekhor were thieves and murderers. They had it coming."
"Perhaps." She released the tall one's hair. "But that doesn't change anything. When Ghost of Ekhor wakes, he will reap his hatred onto us, and I will not have that. Kill him."
"No." Koj said.
"I said, 'Kill him.'!" She barked.
"I will not." Koj replied firmly.
The group of Ghorfa watched tensely as the two leaders argued. Barjol took a blade and brought it to the Ghost's neck, but Koj grabbed her wrist. "You are not Seer. You do not hear and feel. The winds speak to me that they are to be kept alive, and the sun smiles on them."
"Let go."
He argued, "Ghosts exist to be appeased after their judgment is made, not angered further. They act out the will of the Spirit! The elements are pleased by their presence, Barjol. They are loved by the Good Spirit. If you are not afraid of angering ghosts, then be afraid of angering the Good Spirit."
The Far Seer released her wrist and stepped back. "Consider that in what you do next, Elder."
She looked at the Ghost, then to Koj, and back again. She yelled out and threw the dagger into the sand. She climbed up onto her bantha companion and barked for them to return home. They cried out gutturally in agreement.
The Ghorfa returned home that night and people came running. The goods were handed out freely. The linen would be used in patching up clothes and curtains and the cloth border-markers. Children fidgeted with the medicine curiously until an adult grabbed it from them and had it sent off to the medicine man. The oil would be used for fire sparingly while the metal plating would provide strong replacement for the walls to hold against sandstorms. That or the metal would be melted down and used in other ways. Bullets were low and pots and pans made out of something that didn't melt into the fire or food would prevent poisoning.
Koj kept the lightsabers closed to his person. Salvaging and stealing were two different concepts the outsiders rarely understood. The sands took everything. Meat, plants, water, wreckages, metals… if there was a single thing that stood still for longer than a night, it would begin to sink into the sand no matter its weight. Settlements had to stay mobile, even if they only moved a few inches to prevent sinking. Permanent settlements existed only in caves and on strong foundations, which were few.
Thankfully, the Ineh had settled into a crevice of a range of rocks from where they could carve out the stone. The front end was more military and for animals to wander. Past a cloth wall or two and you could enter the main settlement building on pure rock.
Stealing from the sands was salvaging.
Stealing from the people was stealing.
Outsiders considered both the same as a crime, yet seemed to love doing both.
And Outsiders considered the Ghorfa to be savage…
Koj entered his tent. His bantha laid down outside, exhausted from his journey. Koj's wife did not look up from where she was working. The sick child on the bed had her head covering off while his wife attended to the girl. Already the medicine they found was being put to use. The girl's name was Empok'Ineh. One who suffered from a disease, unfortunately, but still lively for such a young thing.
"I see our findings have come to use."
"Her fever has nearly killed her. Tonight will be rough, but the medicine should help her through it. She is suffering from her condition again, I will have to make sugar-water to bring her out of it."
"Good, good." He placed his rifle on the floor by his bed.
"I hear the rumors there are outsiders. Is that so?"
"It is." He allowed. "I am unsure what we will do with them, but all I know is the Good Spirit is with them. For now they need rest. They will be cared for by Brunt. He is the only one who understand Outsider physiology."
"Brunt is a poshella even on a good day." She responded. "Let's hope they are good at making first impressions."
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